


The Only Way Out Is Through

by Nocturnalsky13



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherhood Feels, Gen, Noctis is a cat, Prompto is an empath, Soldiers, World of Ruin Mini Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturnalsky13/pseuds/Nocturnalsky13
Summary: It was Ignis that first realized that Prompto was an empath. Pretty ironic for a genetically altered human created to kill. But after nine years of impenetrable darkness that leaves him hopeless, missing his best friend more than ever, and feeling like he is a liability to his team, Prompto begins to embrace that part of his DNA. If only it would allow him to stop feeling.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: World of Ruin Big Bang





	The Only Way Out Is Through

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the World of Ruin Big Bang and accompanied by the amazing art of Lady Jasper @jasperygrace who can be found on Instagram, Twitter, and Tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you to the mods for this event and the FFXV fandom for being the light in the darkness. Stay safe and be well!

PROLOGUE

Prompto had a secret that not many people knew about. His over the top, twitchy, anxious, personality was a direct result of a trauma hidden so deep in his psyche that even he didn’t quite understand it. As a teen, it manifested itself as a recurring nightmare of being trapped in some sort of experimental laboratory. A huge room spread out before him where hundreds of babies were suspended in liquid tubes, their bodies lifeless and gray. Others were swaddled in white cloth, lined up side by side in clear, plastic bins. Rows of blonde haired babies could be seen from where he stood motionless, blank eyes staring at him, the same violet as his own. The collective pain in the room thrummed through his blood, his heart constricting like a sponge soaking up every tortuous feeling in the otherwise sterile lab. Then there was the laugh, low and maniacal, red eyes reflected through a glass window, and a strange foreboding that it may somehow be coming from him. It was enough to jerk him awake, lying in a puddle of cold sweat, his breath pulled in ragged gasps from his throat. To be bombarded with all those emotions at once shook him to his very core, wanting nothing more to curl up in a ball and never leave his bed again. If it only were that easy.

Prompto kept to himself a lot, not wanting or knowing how to deal with such a rush of sensations at once. He turned to music, the louder the better, to help mask his surroundings, especially at school. But, picture a typical crowded high school classroom. As if teenagers weren’t under enough confusion with hormonal and body changes. Imagine feeling every horny, impulsive, insecurity riddled mood channeled through every boy and girl in the room - all at once. A person can only hold so much emotional baggage. There comes a point where the seams start to rip, the contents bursting the sides until there’s only one thing that can happen; an explosion of seismic proportions. So Prompto started running. He’d pop in his ear buds and sprint until every vein in his calves bulged, his quads burned, and his pulse thundered in his chest. It was the only thing that could clear his brain. He didn’t know there was a name to what he was feeling until years later during Crownsguard training.

As the Prince’s Shield, Gladiolus wanted his charge to be as strong and as confident as him, prepared for any battle they may encounter in the future. Oftentimes, it meant wiping the training floor with what he thought was nothing but a spoiled, privileged ass. He had been goading Noctis during drills that day, pushing him to fight harder, taunting him, purposely knocking him to the ground and challenging his weak side until Ignis ordered him to stop. When he couldn’t witness any more, Prompto ran from the training room, distancing himself from the anger, frustration, apprehension… but most of all the fear. He could feel fear the most, and it lodged deep between his ribs and his throat until he thought his heart would combust into shards. Ignis was the one who had found him curled up on the floor of a storage closet. He had dug so deep to suppress his anxiety that it transported himself right back to his nightmare. In the confined space, Prompto’s eyes burned red, the maniacal laugh seething from his mouth. It was quickly stifled by his own hand when he realized that he was fully awake and the sound was coming from him. His vision swooned as he hugged his knees closer just before everything went black.

“It is what I speculated all along. Prompto is an empath and it seems he is warring between the human and the MT side of his DNA.” Ignis’ words swam in his head dreamlike and far away. Prom felt the advisor’s warm hand on his forehead, no doubt checking for a temperature.

Stale sweat and wood polish from the training room filled his lungs, the floor hard beneath him. He tried to open his eyes, but they still burned as hot as the sting of shame that clawed at his chest.

“Fight it, Sunshine,” the apprehension was clear in Gladio’s deep command, “the Princess needs you,” he continued, his voice softening with concern.

Still deeply lost in the battle that was raging in his mind, it was Noctis’ voice who pulled him out. One that spoke without hesitation, as if he had no doubt who his best friend was. “You are better than that, Prom. We all know it.”

****************************************************************************************************

Over ten years later, in the cold, dank air of the Daurell Caverns, Prompto crouched beside a sealed door. With his jaw clenched tightly, he squinted in the darkness, squeezing his fist around the hilt of his dagger. He scanned the space for signs of movement, any slight change that would alert him that he’d been followed. Prom had lost sight of Ignis and Gladiolus just before he ran in. It wasn’t like him to wander off on his own, but an unknown force pulled him from the daemon battle outside. Maybe it was the glowing monolith beckoning to him at its entrance, its message chiseled into the black marble, “Whence comes the Night, let shine the Light.” Only he or anyone else on Eos hadn’t seen the light in close to ten years.

A pool of poison bubbled to Prompto’s right as his breathing evened out, a cold sweat dripping down his back. He stood and faced the door, his gloved finger tracing the emblem intricately forged within the steel frame. It was foretold that the one True King would be the only one to vanquish the daemons locked inside forever. Unspeakable beasts said to be trapped there by the rulers of yore, past monarchs of the kingdom of Lucis to hide their shameful past. A closely guarded secret reputedly forged by a king and an Oracle far down the Lucis Caelum bloodline, way before Noctis was even born. Prompto could feel anger heating in his pulse, the heavy weight in his sternum turning into a sharp pain. A twisted laugh escaped his lips as he tried to imagine what horrifying creatures could still be trapped when he had been fighting some doozies ever since he learned how to shoot a gun.

“You assholes left Noct to deal with your shit - it’s not fair!” He channeled his frustration into his fisted hand, punching the side of it against the door. A metal clang loud enough to wake the dead echoed down the shaft, debris and loose stones tumbling from the rafters.

Without Noctis by his side, Prompto felt lost. Noct had been gone so long that Prom wasn’t even sure what he was fighting for anymore. It not only made his mind weak, but reckless, the dormant DNA he so detested rearing its ugly head and rising to the surface. Only today, he chose to embrace it. Like a switch, he turned off his feelings, his rage turning cold and calculated. “Come and get me,” he gritted through his teeth as he unsheathed another dagger, ignoring the weight of the guns against his waist. Prom spun when he heard a low growl, the putrid smell of decay attacking his senses. Stabbing into shadows, his blade hit its target, deep into the couerl’s throat as it hovered in mid pounce. Only he didn’t stop there. Nine long years of fighting, nine years of killing, nine years without his best friend... he kept stabbing as the creature hit the floor. Again and again, he ripped into tendons and soft cartilage, blood and ichor flowing freely over his hands, seeping into the leather of his wristbands and coating his gloves.

“Stand down, Prompto! You’re gonna get us all killed!” Gladiolus' voice resonated off the tunnel walls, loud boots rushing towards him.

Prom whipped his head up and staggered backwards shaking the bloodlust from his eyes, his savage, predatory thrashing thwarted by the Shield’s command.

"Fall in line!” Gladio ordered, and Prom could feel the exasperation behind his words, as well as the anxiety. All because of him. Prompto’s shoulders sagged in the darkness as he bowed his head in shame. He blinked once, snapped up straight and took off running, completely ignoring Gladiolus’ orders.

“Let him go,” Ignis advised. “We can find him later. It appears that he needs to blow off a little steam.”

“Ya think? He's got a death wish lately and I don’t wanna be the one scraping him off the ground with a shovel,” Gladiolus grumbled.

"There is no doubt that Prompto’s lack of discretion is starting to affect the team," Ignis admitted. “Perhaps he needs a reminder of what we are truly fighting for.”

“Please, lemme get my hands on him first...” Gladio scoffed.

"As consumed as we are by this battle, we mustn't forget his true nature."

"Yeah, well Noctis was the only one who could talk him off the ledge, and where is he now? Last time I checked, he wasn't here," Gladio gestured in the darkness with his free hand, years of frustration coming out as biting sarcasm.

"It doesn't mean we cease to try."

There was no time for further argument when Prom had carelessly announced their whereabouts to every daemon in the vicinity. Gladio and Ignis had no choice but to stay alert and fight their way back out of the caverns. Only then would they be able to search for Prompto.

****************************************************************************************************

The Causcherry Plains were mostly flat, even ground, but every muscle in Prom’s legs ached from being pushed to their limits. He ran like a feral animal, trying to distance himself from any daemons still lurking. But there was no escaping his own. He stumbled, his movements erratic and clumsy the more he pressed on. It was all it took to transport him back over fifteen years ago, to when he was just an insecure boy trying to find a place to fit in. That awkward, pudgy child had somehow become a man, a soldier, and a best friend. Most importantly, he had been accepted as part of the Prince’s trusted retinue despite the DNA that ran through his veins. It seemed everyone forgot about that but him. Lately, it was all he could think about, his humanity slipping away with every dark day that passed.

Prompto’s heavy boots plodded down the narrow, dirt streets of Duscae, a cloud of dust in their wake. He didn’t care how loud or exposed he was. Rough, ragged breaths escaped his lungs as he robotically plowed past crumbled storefronts, an abandoned gas station, and what was once a church of some sort. Its broken, stained glass windows crunched under his feet, his anger rising again, “As if the Gods should be worshipped,” he spat.

Prom trudged on, heading up a small knoll just beyond the main street of a once thriving post. There the land sprawled out, so unlike the jagged steel cityscape of Insomnia. With tainted blood pounding in his ears, he welcomed the abomination that he was, a killing machine with no conscience. There was a reason he hadn’t used his guns lately. It wasn’t enough to shoot on sight anymore; he wanted to see the fear in his enemy’s eyes, smell their blood draining, and hear their last breath. Most of all, he wanted them to feel his anger, always boiling at the surface, a bed of hot coals surrounding his heart.

Dark clouds loomed in the murky sky, their daemon shapes floating over the landscape. It had been that way for so long, Prompto had given up hope of ever seeing light grace the sky again. He kept going until he smelled the musty mix of wet soil and decay that could only mean the lakefront was close. Part fog, wind, and bait fish mingling together immediately snapped him from his rage. In its place were memories of the light he had lost. He remembered the midday sun gleaming off of raven hair that shined as bright as the glassy surface of the water. It was the day that he and Noctis had fished until their hands ached from reeling, their nails caked with dirt. Then they hunted for rare mushrooms for Iggy, only to have accidentally dropped them when they were chased by a giant Catoblepas. He could still see Noct’s face so nonchalantly explaining to Ignis that there was a “slight mishap.” They both knew that the advisor would forgive them as long as the Prince was okay. That same night, he, Noct, Iggy, and Gladio climbed up to the highest point they could find to watch the meteor shower. Against the backdrop of the starry sky, clear and sparkling like the eyes of the innocent, Prom had set up his camera to capture the four of them. He could feel the lightness of the moment running through his friends, the camaraderie and bond they shared strong and true. And when the moment came to snap the perfect photo, his tripod toppled over, throwing them into fits of laughter. It was the first time in his life that he knew he was part of something special.

Prompto sprinted up the hill, almost expecting to see Noctis there. That cocky, half smile greeting him like old friends do, a pat on the back as natural as breathing. At the top, he finally stopped, dropped to his knees and screamed into the void as loud as his bursting lungs would allow. And what he thought was a primal cry, a final surrender to his daemon DNA, couldn’t be more human. Anyone within earshot would know without a doubt that it was the sound of heartbreak. His eyes burned red again, a sharp ringing in his ears as he dropped his head to his chest. It was then that he noticed the daggers still clutched in his gloved hands, the blood now caked and dry. They dropped to the ground with a soft thud as he leaned over and retched the acidic contents of his stomach. Over and over he heaved, silent tears streaming down his face as he let it all go.

An icy cold breeze stirred Prompto awake from the physical and mental exhaustion that had finally claimed him. He woke up in a puddle of his own bile, a caustic taste in his mouth. There was no time to even think about how disgusting he felt as the blood suddenly rushed from his face, a chill crawling up his back. He could feel dark magic creeping towards him, the sense of dread like walking over the grave of a thousand fallen daemons. Had a Necromancer escaped the caverns and followed him there? As careless as he had been, self preservation kicked back in before he had the chance to find out.

As Prom raced back in the direction he had deserted Gladio and Ignis, shame and guilt resurfaced with each step. He was a pathetic MT and a pathetic human, teetering between the two so often lately, unable to find a balance. He knew it made him a liability and it wasn’t fair to his team. “Maybe I should go off on my own,” he contemplated as he passed through a crumbling archway. He was so lost in his head that he was completely unaware of the cactuar perched on top until a sharp prick stung the back of his neck. His hand reflectively swatted at the pain, needle like quills stuck in his palm, the poison quickly numbing his fingers. Prompto was sure that he had been caught in the crossfire of something greater than himself, otherwise he’d be skewered like a garula kebob. Even so, without gravisphere ability, a few spines were going to be enough to make him loopy. Not wanting to stick around and find out what the cactuar was really after, he took off in a panic. The closest shelter he could find was the abandoned church. Shouldering the door open, he shuffled over the shredded pages from old books of prayer, the numbness travelling up his arm and down his neck. Prompto barricaded the door with the broken remains of a pulpit just as black dots started to drift across his field of vision. Blood burned in his veins like fire as he fell to his knees. Crawling across the wreckage, he found one of the only pews left undamaged by war. With the last of his energy, he pulled himself up and slumped in a heap on the hardwood. Broken physically, mentally, and spiritually, he thought that this would be the most fitting place to surrender to it all.

It was hard to tell time how much time had passed, especially in a state of perpetual darkness. Minutes, hours, and days seemed to blur together in a never ending cycle that only heightened the trauma of constant combat. Prompto drifted off in a fevered dreamstate, most likely the best rest he had gotten in a long time. He was far away from the constant ache, the deep longing for Noctis’ return that made the weight of Eos feel like it lay upon his shoulders. In his sleep, he stood on the rocky shoreline, the lull of the waves lapping at his boots. The heat of the sun warmed his freckled cheeks as he tracked a blue jay through his camera lens, Noct casting a reel beside him. Gladio chopped wood in the background while Iggy started to kindle the fire and prepare the vegetables. They were going to eat like Kings. Prom couldn’t remember the last time he felt so light. But then something in the air shifted, the sky so bright it started to burn his skin, his eyes red from the glare. The calm waters of the lake turned black, swirling to a churning froth. He did nothing but bask in the silent scream as Noctis slipped, his blue eyes staring back in shock as the Prince was pulled under. Prompto stood frozen, his arms straight, elbows locked and palms towards the water. What had he just done?

Something nudged at Prompto’s face, the feeling of soft fur rubbing against his neck. He tried to pry his eyes open, his brain still foggy and heavy. A set of piercing eyes stared back at him, their almond shape narrowed to a slit. They belonged to a sleek, black cat, its head tilted and questioning in the dim light from the quarter moon rising above the broken windows.

“Puh...puh please get away,” Prompto stuttered, “I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice cracked as he pleaded with the creature.

“You won’t hurt me, Prom.” The unwavering voice that seemed to be coming from the cat was as familiar as its sapphire eyes. Ones that Prompto hadn’t seen in nine long years. He knew it must have been the poison wreaking havoc on his brain. Besides, he didn’t think Noctis would even recognize him anymore. Nine grueling years had hardened his face, his hair long and unruly, scruff now covering his jawline. Not to mention the battle scars he had managed to wrack up, both inside and out.

“I could pick you out of a lab full of MTs. Don’t you think I’d know my best friend? Even though you desperately need a shave and a shower,” the cat actually scoffed at him.

“Noct?” Prom managed to whisper, his mouth agape. Through the dust mote din the cat leaned its nose into him, purring loudly.

“You are better than that, we all know it,” the cat held his gaze, the words from Noctis all those years ago heard just as loud and clear today. Prompto screwed his eyes shut. He had to be hallucinating. But Noct’s voice continued, “your are the most human of all the humans I know.”

Prom kept his eyes closed, his heart heavy as he thought about all the killing he had done over the years, blood evidence still caked on his hands and clothes. He hadn’t felt human in a very long time.

Prompto sat up as his sudden laugh rang out in the cavernous church, startling even himself. He stared into the dim space, his voice soft and defeated, "Remember our sleepovers when we were just kids and we joked about all the monsters that came out at night? It's a never ending night here, Noct… and I'm. Just. So. Tired. You know I'd walk through fire for you, man... but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on," a single tear slid slowly down the contour of his face.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. There’s a reason the big guy calls you Sunshine, ya know. You don’t see Iggy’s crooked half smile when you hit those high notes, or crack your corny jokes. You know, that same smug look of triumph you say he makes when he actually gets me to eat a vegetable? Well, I do. You are the one that brings brightness to every nightmare we’ve had to face. You don’t need light when the light is inside of you. It always has been. It’s been a long road, believe me, I know. But I need you to trust me... trust when you don’t understand. And never forget your humanity. Promise me, Prom,” Noctis implored, “please.”

Illusion or not, Prompto recognized a new wisdom and maturity in his best friend’s words, as if what they had endured for almost a decade had finally prepared Noctis to take his rightful place as King. For that alone, it was worth it. He knew without a doubt that he would follow this King until the day he died. The cat waited patiently as Prompto nodded slowly, “I promise," he whispered.

A heavy weight was lifted off his conscience, an invisible force raising him up to stand. With his arms outstretched he remembered all the reasons he had to keep fighting. And he’d try like hell to never let his friends down or disgrace his rank again. With Noctis by his side, he called upon his inner light to fill his veins and flow through him, to vanquish his daemons head on. They rose above him into the darkness, floating higher than the splintered rafters, zapping every ounce of energy Prom had left. His body crumbled like a rag doll, collapsing back down onto the pew.

“You okay?” Prompto could feel Gladiolus’ strong hand gently shake his shoulder. He braced himself for an onslaught of anger and disappointment. “Come on, snap out of it, Sunshine.” The Shield called him the nickname he hadn’t heard in a very long time only proving that Noctis’ words were true. Even if they did come from a cat. Prom tried to crack a smile, but was so weak he could barely move. Maybe he was still dreaming.

“Let the curatives settle in his system. There were only a few puncture marks that I could feel so he should be relatively unscathed; all indications that he was not the cactuar’s intended target.” Iggy’s fingers wrapped around Prompto’s wrist, checking for a pulse that grew stronger with each passing minute.

“Yeah, well, he was lucky. Those things'll kill ya in an instant.” Even though Gladio stated the obvious, there was a huge relief in his tone.

The collective flood of worry was enough to spur Prom to wake up, especially since he was the cause of it. He jerked his eyes open and tried to sit up, a wave of nausea hitting him hard.

“Easy there, Blondie,” Gladio cradled the back of his head as it fell, preventing it from cracking hard against the wood.

“I’m sorry…I know I’ve been a loose cannon lately,” Prompto started to apologize.

“Shhhh, be still, you need to rest,” Ignis shushed him before he could finish. “The counter poison contains a sedative that will allow you to sleep off any ill effects. And perhaps it is us that should atone for our regrettable behavior, we seem to have been so entrenched in the fight, that we have forgotten your empathetic nature. We should have seen the signs sooner. Know that we would never abandon you, no matter how hopeless it seems.”

“Y'know we got your back,” Gladiolus continued. “But right now, we need to get outta here and get you cleaned up. The truck is out this way.”

Prompto closed his eyes when the Shield scooped him up as if he weighed next to nothing. As they scrambled over broken glass, through the door, and into the fresh air, the events of the last few hours came back to him.

“Hey, how did you find me anyway?” Prom managed to ask, grateful that they knew him well enough to figure it out.

“Well, Iggy knew you’d head towards the lake. But on our way, I saw a black cat sneaking in the side door of this crumbled old church. We knew that if there was a stray animal around, that’s the first place you’d be.” Gladiolus scanned the dim light, “Don’t know where he ran off to, probably prowlin for babes,” Gladio chuckled as he lay Prom down in the back seat of the truck.

“Or getting ready to rule the Kingdom,” Prompto managed a smile before drifting off to sleep again.

Ignis and Gladiolus thought it must be the medicine talking, but Prompto knew the truth. And on the day they were all reunited, they would be by their King’s side every step of the way.


End file.
